


Old and New Love

by linksofmemories



Series: Rewritten [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e11 Alpha Pact, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linksofmemories/pseuds/linksofmemories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What?” Lydia asked, stepping closer. “What is it now?”</p><p>“It’s from Isaac,” Stiles said, eyes glued to his phone. “Jennifer, she took—she has Allison’s father, she took him. She’s got all three now.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old and New Love

“What?” Lydia asked, stepping closer. “What is it now?”

“It’s from Isaac,” Stiles said, eyes glued to his phone. “Jennifer, she took—she has Allison’s father, she took him. She’s got all three now.”

His hand shook as he slipped the phone back into his pocket, his mind moving way too fast for him to even concentrate.

“There’s still time,” Lydia said. “We still have time, right?”

Except they didn’t. There was no way that they still had time. Jennifer had all the pieces she needed. What was there to wait for? And why was the air so stuffy all of a sudden? Why was it so hard to breathe?

He exhaled shakily, turning around and trying not to look at Lydia’s panicked face. His hands were shaking and standing up was difficult but that was nothing compared to what his dad was going through. His dad who was going to be ritually sacrificed by some bitch who was obsessed with his boyfriend.

“Stiles, are you okay?”

This was all his fault. He should have told his dad sooner. He would have been able to defend himself better.

“What is it?”

His dad was going to die and the guilt was going to follow him just like it had when his mom had died.

“What’s wrong?”

There was no way he could fix this now. He was panicking and shaking and he couldn’t breathe and that wasn’t going to help. But he couldn’t even help to begin with.

“Stiles.”

“I think I’m having a panic attack.”

Lydia’s eyes widened at that before she wrapped an arm around his back. “Do you want to go to the nurse’s office?”

“No, no, just—just not there, they’d call my dad and—and,” he swallowed heavily, his limbs already starting to feel heavy. “Oh God, _my dad_.”

“Okay, okay,” Lydia said, moving down the hallway. “It’s gonna be okay, just stay with me, Stiles.”

She practically shoved him as they walked and he was trying not to think about his dad or anything. He was trying to think about how tiny Lydia Martin could move him with such ease. Probably because he felt like he was falling apart.

“Almost there,” she said, grabbing a freshman’s shoulder and shoving him aside. “It’s okay, don’t worry.”

Why did she keep saying that when it clearly wasn’t okay? Nothing was okay. He had been so stupid to think that he was smart enough to take care of this. He needed a plan and he needed help and he couldn’t do this by himself.

He couldn’t do anything by himself.

“Here we go,” she said, opening the door to the locker room. “Okay.”

She pushed him inside and he slipped his backpack from his shoulders, hearing it fall to the ground before she was moving him again.

“Come on, come on.”

Stiles could only walk so far though before he crashed into something, falling onto the ground. His breathing was getting worse and so was the shaking but he tried not to focus on it. He was useless like this and he couldn’t help like this. But what happened when this went away? He wouldn’t be able to do anything then either.

“Just try to think of something else,” Lydia said. “Anything else.”

“Like what?” he gasped out.

“Uh, happy things!” she said. “Good things! Friends, family—”

Oh God. No that was the—

“Oh, not family,” she said. “Oh God. Try to slow your breathing.”

If anything that only made him breathe heavier. He could try though. Or he couldn’t. Because his chest felt like it was tightening and caving in all at the same time.

“I can’t,” he choked out. “I can’t.”

He felt hands on his shoulders, small and delicate and perfect hands, before moving up to cup his face. “Stiles, look at me.”

And he did. Because he had been in love with her for most of his life and he wasn’t going to lie and say that he still wasn’t a little bit in love with her. He probably always would be. She was beautiful and smart and had the most beautiful green eyes and he really loved green eyes.

“Shh,” she soothed. “Just look at me. Look at me and focus on me and try to breathe and think about good things.”

“Lydia, I can’t—”

“You can,” she insisted. “Think about—think about Scott, no, not Scott. Um, Derek. Think about Derek.”

Derek. Derek who was sitting by his sister’s bedside because she could die at any second.

“Memories of Derek,” Lydia said quickly, probably picking up on where his thoughts were going. “Think about the summer. You had a good summer, right?”

And he did have a good summer. Because he was with Derek. Derek who didn’t complain when they went running every morning. Derek, who always paid for breakfast or lunch or dinner because Stiles was broke. Derek who not-so secretly quoted along with _Doctor Who_ episodes. Derek who was a tea drinker and made him try the weirdest blends. Who read classic literature. Who sketched random things and always hid them away. Who kissed Stiles like he was worth something. Who told him he loved him every day. Who cared about Stiles and his family more than anything.

“There you go,” Lydia said softly, her fingers stroking his face. “That’s it Stiles, just breathe. Keep on envisioning those amazing abs.”

He choked out a laugh at that, his head already clearing up a bit. A little smile came over Lydia’s face and she continued to speak. “Just think about him. And how much you love him and never want to be apart from him. How things can be really bad, but you just look at him and you know things are going to be okay again.”

Stiles didn’t know if she was talking about him and Derek or someone else, but he went with it. It was true after all. Because things could be horrible but at the end of it all he would still have Derek. He’d always have Derek because Derek would never leave him.

“Thanks,” he managed, everything slowly coming back to him.

“Of course,” she said, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around him. “You know I love you, kid.”

He snorted, placing a hand on her back and rolling his eyes. “You’re one month older than me.”

“Minor detail.”


End file.
